Legacy
by Bulletprccf
Summary: It's been two years since Omega and Chaos returned to the planet.  It's been two years that I've been at peace.  It's been two years...and then...well, I've heard it said that your past comes back to haunt you...
1. Chapter 1:: Viridian

~Chapter 1~Viridian~

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><p><em>The gunslinger returned his gaze to the demonic figure, now on the ground a few meters away from him. But it had lost its wings, and everything else, labeling it as inhuman.<em>

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><p>"Vincent Valentine."<p>

He turned and was met with the sight of Shelke, dressed in a light blue, simple cotton dress with white sandals. They had been meeting on the cliff outside of Lucrecia's cave for the past two years after the fall of Deepground. They talked about things—oddities: the sky, society, nightmares, the works. He had grown fond of the girl, viewed by most as her father-figure.

"We need more rain," she said. As it were, the grass was so stiff and dry it could have scratched his sabatons when he walked through it. This drought had nearly ruined the small farming town of Kalm, where he had been staying. "How goes the irrigation project?" Shelke asked, seeing the direction of his steady gaze.

"What irrigation? The most we're doing is supplying more dust to the weeds that are dying."

"The same is happening here. Tifa's bar has been being more frequented because of the lack of field work."

"How is Tifa?"

"She is well. She wishes you to visit."

"She has my cellphone number. She is welcome to call."

"She says she doesn't want to intrude—that it might be a bad time."

"She need not worry. Only Yuffie is unwelcome to my mobile."

Shelke smiled a bit. "I will tell her that."

They returned to the silence. He thought of Shelke as he gazed at her drawn, calculating face. She had become less android-like, if you will, and more comfortable with her emotions as she realized that they were allowed to exist. He saw a bit of himself within her: her deep thinking, her uneasiness with being expressive, part of her life wasted away, the loss of a loved one…Shelke was one of the few he wasn't uncomfortable around. The girl didn't press on talking for no reason, didn't enquire about his thoughts, and was sensible. She made him feel more h—

"Vincent, do you smell that?"

He closed his eyes and inhaled. That sting—smoke?

"Vincent!"

His eyes snapped open, the unwelcome light shadowed by Shelke's alarmed frame. Her face was turned toward…black clouds of soot.

They looked at each other then took off running. The drought had made the fields essential kindling—now being eaten up by angry flames. It was racing toward Edge—where the other members of AVALANCHE were.

Shelke was dialing. "Tifa! There's a wildfire heading your way! Get help!" She hung up and continued running. "Vincent, how do we stop a wildfire?" A small note of panic shone in her voice.

He didn't know. But—was that a flash of orange from his other side? No, it was blue—orange? Whatever color it was, it was _fast_. A guardhound? He drew Cerberus and shot it…but it kept running…toward the fire? As it drew closer, it started leaving a trail of bare ground behind it. After mere seconds, it started hightailing it the other direction—this time leaving a smaller, tamer fire in its wake. A backfire, he realized. Whatever this was, it was a friend.

"Shelke, stay your weapons. That thing is on our side."

The pair slowed as they neared Edge. Tifa and Cloud were riding toward them on Fenrir, the large attack fire and small backfire still racing toward each other. The two duos met in front of the flaming battleground.

"Is that little fire going to be enough?" Tifa asked worriedly.

Nobody knew what to say. They had never seen a prairie fire before.

"Hey— " Cloud was pointing. An unseemingly fast shape was darting through the monstrosity. It leapt out, light blue tattered bat wings emerging, shaking off the flames—or rather, _absorbing_ them. Cloud gasped. "Vincent—"

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><p>"<em>Your nightmares follow you like a shadow, forever." <em>–Aleksandar Hemon

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><p>But he'd already seen. But it was impossible…that shape…those claws…no…Chaos had returned to the planet two years ago…so why? A ghost?—is what the coloring would imply…<p>

The group had been so absorbed in the horrific creature that everyone except Shelke had failed to notice that the fire had dwindled—considerably. "Hey." Shelke's voice drew him back to the ground—literally. All that was left of the firestorm was little smoldering patches of weeds.

"So it did work," Tifa observed. "But who…?"

The gunslinger returned his gaze to the demonic figure, now on the ground a few meters away from him. But it had lost its wings, and everything else, labeling it as inhuman. It—_she—_slowly rose from the ground, shaking the debris from her long silver hair. She turned and directly looked at him. "Vincent Valentine."

"…"

"He said you were the only one who would be able to ever hit me." Her silver eyes held his gaze steadily. They were…unsettling. As was the rest of her appearance. She wore a pale orange corset and light blue balloon pants with light orange pointed shoes. Her gauntlets were tapered over her hand, a light blue diamond, covered by a light orange gauze. One of them glinted in the harsh sunlight. These mid-upper-arm sleeves were topped by a trailing, high-collared ascot that appeared light blue at some angles, but light orange at others. Aviation goggles around her neck had a thin silver braid of hair hanging over them. She began walking closer, slightly imbalanced, arms still on her belt—which he could now see held three daggers on her right and a small square pouch on the left.

The group tensed as she came to a stop in front of him. The part of her face that was not obscured by her ascot was drawn, and her eyes held the persona of being older than she appeared, of once knowing laughter lost in lieu of barriered terror.

He stepped toward her, and he would have missed what she said had he not possessed heightened senses:

"Please, help me…Hojo is back, and I didn't know where else to go…please, Mr Valentine, I'm so lost…" She swayed and fell forward.

He moved to catch her and she fell against him. She was extremely light for someone of her stature—about five and half feet with toned curves. She was also extremely warm. Her face, up close, was of ghastly pallor with a faint, sickly blush against her cheeks. Her lips, chapped and bleeding, were the color of his eyes. Her eyelids, grey and sunken, fluttered and she groaned, pinching her jawline into a more defined presence. She was not beautiful under any circumstances, but pretty, in a sick, tortured, pained sort of way.

"What is your name?" he asked the girl.

"V…Viridian…"

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><p><em>Dragged you down below<em>

_Down to the devil's show_

_To be his guest forever_

_Peace of mind is less than never _

—Avenged Sevenfold, "Nightmare"

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><p>~Viridian~End~<p>

There is an illustration for this chapter. Please go to my deviantART

h t t p : / / v a m p s e n n . d e v i a n t a r t . c o m / # / d 4 r i x q l

It is a drawing of Viridian and her render of Chaos.

This is re-uploaded. I am aware that "Crystal Cave" is on the western continent in Final Fantasy VII, but in Dirge of Cerberus it appears to be near both Kalm and Midgar Edge, as well as having lost the waterfall in front. My opinion? Lucrecia isn't really in the cave you find in FFVII, but a different one in Dirge of Cerberus. It's never explicitly said that the two caves are the same [they don't even remotely match descriptive-wise].

Review, please, and tell me things that you noticed. :]


	2. Chapter 2:: Lance Valentine

~Chapter 2~Lance Valentine~

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><p><em>His eyes narrowed as she made eye contact with him, silver and red burning into each other.<em>

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><p>"Vincent Valentine…"<p>

His head snapped over to the bed.

"Must…find…Vincent Valentine…"

She—the girl, Viridian—was dreaming. The group had taken her back to 7th Heaven at his request. He needed to find out what she'd meant by Hojo being back. Was it true? Why did she have the shape of Chaos? Why—

"Why does she resemble Sephiroth so much?" Cloud asked from the doorway.

Yes. That. "I do not know. Lucrecia's files stated nothing of her, which leads me to believe that she is a more recent creation."

Cloud nodded. "She still unconscious?"

"Yes, though she appears to be dreaming. She talks in her sleep."

"What does she say?"

"…"

"Well, if anything happens, we're downstairs." Cloud left.

"He turned to face her. "Stop pretending to be asleep."

Her eyes opened and she sat up—a little too quickly. "Whoa…"

He moved to support her as she recovered from her dizziness.

"Thank you. I apologize for being ill earlier. I try to time it so that I'm not near anyone, but that wildfire…"

"Time it?"

"Yes." She shifted so she was facing him on the bed.

His eyes narrowed as she made eye contact with him, silver and red burning into each other. She immediately averted her eyes.

"I apologize. I upset people when I look at them. And frankly…these colors drive me mad…"

"Colors?"

"Excuse me. I'm getting ahead of myself. I will explain everything I can, but please, where is my belt?"

He nodded to the bedside table. She leapt up agilely and opened the square pouch attached to the sought item. When she turned around she had a pair of thin cat-eye glasses on…and her eyes were green. Mako green.

"Light-refracting lenses. They enable me to see as well as adjusting the light frequency to make my eyes appear a more natural color. This aqua green was going to be my natural eye color if I had been born on time."

"On time?"

"My apologies. I seem to be creating more questions than answers. I will start with that one and go back from there. I was born prematurely. That is why I am strangely…pigmented."

He nodded. "What did you mean by 'these colors drive me mad'?"

"That…" She looked away. "You probably won't believe me…"

He sat down next to her and looked at her intently. "Was it something Hojo did to you?"

She shook her head. "I should say yes for all the sanity you'll think I don't have…"

He slowly cocked his head. "Continue," he demanded.

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><p>"<em>I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?"<em>—John Lennon

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><p>Viridian heaved. "Okay, but…" She looked at her hands. "I…I'm highly clairvoyant…"<p>

His eyes narrowed. "What?"

"You heard me. Clairvoyant. I can see the dead. In addition, I can see a person's auras."

"Auras?"

She tensed. Visibly. Her hair fell in front of her face, forming a protective barrier between her and him. "It…It is rather difficult to explain." She started twisting her small braid around her finger in a nervous bout.

He grabbed her wrist to make her look at him, alarming her and prompting her to meet his gaze nervously. She reminded him of a deer in headlights. 'She's terrified…why? It's fairly obvious that she's attempting to win me over by offering up all of this personal information. But…would she do that if she had malicious intent...?'

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, he holding her wrist and she too petrified to push up her slowly slipping glasses, each collecting his own thoughts. Then—

"Have I convinced you, then?"

He started. "What?"

Her silver irises glinted over her glasses in the afternoon sunlight. "Your aura is much calmer and you are less guarded, based on the brighter shade of violet and the duller shade of red it has acquired."

He released her wrist. "You…What exactly can you see?"

A look of surprise graced over her pale features. "You…You're not going to hit me?"

His eyes widened involuntarily. "Hit you? Why would I hit you?"

"Because everyone else does…everyone except him, anyway…"

'Him? Does she mean Hojo?'

"I'm not referring to…to…that _monster_." She shivered. "Sorry. Your red color flared up quite suddenly, and I assumed…"

He nodded. "Who, then?"

She looked very uncomfortable. She once again said something he barely heard: "My husband."

"…What?" Husband? She didn't look more than eighteen years old. "How old are you?"

She turned her blushing face toward the window. "I am twenty-three. My physical appearance is younger, I know, but that is a result of the experimentation. Mentally…I believe myself to be twelve to nineteen, though at times I feel almost sixty," she said with a childish, sly glance at him.

He stiffened. He'd forgotten that she'd seemed to know something about him. He coughed.

Her demeanor fell. "So…do you reject me yet?"

He shook his head softly. "No. I know what Hojo does to people. I, myself…" He looked at his claw.

"I know…everything about what happened to you…"

His eyes narrowed.

She rushed ahead. "When I knew I needed to escape, there weren't many who I could approach for help. Most people think Hojo is dead, but…" She sighed. "He was. And he blackmailed me into reviving him."

"Blackmailed you, how?"

She took a deep breath. "I was studying for a research paper on alchemy when I stumbled across his files. I decided to sneak into his old lab at Deepground to gather more information (I'm mortally curious, you see.). There…I found _him_. The Lifestream had rejected him because of his unfinished business… He was—is, I suppose—corrupted… He followed me, possessed me…" She shuddered. "I went to my husband for help, but Hojo…Hojo took over his body and threatened to commit suicide with it unless I helped him.

"Before he'd died, Hojo had been researching me because A: I was the top student in my alchemy class in college, and B: word had it that I could see the spirits of the dead.

She hesitated. "He wanted me to locate Miss Lucrecia."

He stiffened. "…Lucrecia?"

She nodded. "But…I knew she wasn't really dead. Her things weren't cold as most people's are after they die. I couldn't tell him that, though. Instead, I insisted that she was already a part of the Lifestream. And then…"

"Then he insisted you bring him to life so he could concoct another mad experiment."

She bowed her head. "Yes."

"And since you couldn't bring Lucrecia back to life, he decided to experiment on you, instead."

"Yes," she whispered.

He put his hand on her shoulder. "I can guess what he did to you. I assume you wouldn't—couldn't—talk about it if I asked you."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but…" That deer in headlights look again.

He put his gauntleted hand on her other shoulder. She flinched at the contact, so he withdrew both quickly.

"I'm sorry. It's just…so strange to have someone other than him touch me with compassion." Her voice sounded far off.

"You really love him," he said.

"Yes…more than life…which makes me so upset…I can't do anything to help him."

"You mean…Hojo has him, too?"

"Yes. He came to rescue me. I escaped, but…"

He mulled over this information for a minute, then: "Why do you think I can help?"

Viridian looked at him with the most honest and defeated look she could muster.

"What? What is it you're not saying?"

"Mr Valentine, I, myself, didn't know until right before I set out to find you. In fact, the proof was what spurred me to start looking for you—the proof I can show you. I just need to hack into Hojo's files—"

"Viridian."

Her eyes snapped up to his face.

"Tell me."

"My husband…he's your son."

The silence started a headache. "W…What?"

She turned away. "I'm sorry…"

"How? I never…"

"Hojo took a sample of your Chaos-infused DNA and impregnated Miss Lucrecia with it. He wanted another test subject to play with after Sephiroth failed…"

Her voice lost focus. "My child…with Lucrecia?" He was torn between horror and elation. A child that he hadn't known about? With that beautiful lady? "What is he like?"

She blushed. "I…I believe that it would be the same as if you were to describe Miss Lucrecia, but I will try my best. He…he, well…he saved me—not just literally, but emotionally, as well. It appears that Hojo was altering my life as I grew up, sheltering me from the 'evils' of society by bribing my parents, molding me into a naïve child with too much trust in and hope for humanity. My husband, though he wasn't that at the time, saved me from killing myself—the only way out my oppressive childhood that I could see—on many occasions…" She trailed off, confused about what else to say.

"What…What does he look like?"

"Oh! He's like you, in the sense of that he's not beautiful, but not repulsive, either. It's that tempting air—it's around you, too—that makes one want to look at you again, but that tinge of darkness that makes them afraid to."

He raised an eyebrow. Naïve _and _blunt. Very childlike. How _did_ she survive all those…terrors? There was more to this girl…

She continued. "He has your brow line and eyes and high cheekbones, but he had Miss Lucrecia's hair and skin tone and stature. I _think_ he has your nose, and from looking at your hands, he must have Miss Lucrecia's. He's five-ten and weighs one hundred fifty-six. His birthday is the seventeenth of July and he's twenty-four." She finished, slightly flushed. "Excuse me. I didn't mean to ramble on so."

"It's fine. What is his name?"

She paused. "Lance…Lance Valentine."

"Lance…who named him?"

"I'm not sure, but…I think it's a nice blend of his parents' names. 'L' from 'Lucrecia' and the hissing 'C' sound from 'Vincent'." She looked out the window, which was slowly but surely darkening.

He thought about her outlook on life. I t was very…artistic. He wondered if she was one.

"Mr Valentine?"

"Vincent."

"…Sorry?"

"…Call me Vincent."

"Oh. Uhm…would you watch the sunset with me, Mr Vincent? Your aura is very calming."

Calming? With _his_ demons? Surely _she_ could see…

He moved to sit beside her again. As he took in the last gold rays, the name crossed his mind again. 'Hmph…Lance Valentine…'

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><p><em>I belong in a fairy tale<em>

_Even though it hurts_

'_Cause I don't care if I lost my mind_

_I'm already cursed._

—Alexander Rybok, "Fairytale"

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><p>~Lance Valentine~End~<p>

A/N: Hey, again, guys! Be sure to leave a review if you read! Oh, and the illustration for this chapter is at

h t t p : / / v a m p s e n n . d e v i a n t a r t . c o m / # / d 4 s o i c t

WIthout the spaces, of course.


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